A/N: So I had always planned for this to be told in three parts, and I suppose I should have said as much in the first story, but I neglected to do so and now it just seems like I'm grasping at straws to redeem myself. I assure you once again that this was always the plan, as each story loosely represents the two verses and chorus of the "We'll Make It Someday" by Vocal Few. This is not in any way a songfic, as the the song was nothing more than inspiration, but I liked the songs progression and it inspired me to make this series. I made them one-shots because a multi-chapter story is too much for me to handle it would seem.

To those who favourited and followed the last story, I love the faith you had that there was more to the story. To the solo reviewer, dawne: I really appreciate your response, and most especially your honesty. To me the last story was about Rachel and not really Rachel and Quinn, which is likely why it felt incomplete. Because it was ultimately going to be a part of a Faberry series I just wanted to establish that up front. Rachel's ultimate epiphany isn't really about Quinn but herself, that she didn't have all the answers, and while chastising Finn for hurting her she comes to realize that she was also guilty of that by taking advantage of a situation between her and Quinn without worrying or thinking about the consequences. All of this is just a really long way of saying, thank you for letting me know how you felt, I hope this explains that a bit, and I hope you like this sequel. The next installment will likely be up next week sometime.

TL;DR - Enjoy part 2 of 3.

No copyright infringement intended. All mistakes are mine.

Don't You Take All of the Credit or the Blame

Part 2 of the We'll Make It Someday series

The silence of the past two months had Rachel on edge. It was deafening in her ears, and it made her feel anxious whenever she caught site of the other girl. It robbed her of her reason and self-worth. It was deliberate, and that annoyed Rachel more than anything.

At first she was sure that the silence was for her sake, that they didn't talk because Rachel wasn't ready to talk about what had happened. That was under the assumption that when she was ready they could. Then a week or so went by and Rachel felt confident enough that she knew what to say, and how to phrase it, so as to not create any more unnecessary problems. She took the initiative one day after glee practice, to less than satisfactory results.

"Can we ta—"She didn't even glance at Rachel, wasn't the least bit affected by her presence. She had grabbed her bag, and walked right out the room leaving Rachel standing dumbly on the lowest riser. Rachel was taken aback – had Quinn actually not heard her? That seemed preposterous. She wasn't invisible, so that wasn't the issue either.

She tried again the following day in AP Chemistry, when she sat next to the former Cheerio after pointedly glaring at Tina Cohen-Chang, who rolled her eyes but vacated her spot. Quinn glanced up at the girl, perplexed by her abrupt departure, and briefly her eyes set on the new occupant of the seat. Her eyes shifted almost immediately, as though she were looking through Rachel rather than at her, and then she turned her head back to the front returning to her stoicism. She didn't say a single word to Rachel then either, even when they were partnered together by virtue of sharing a lab station. Though they were afforded only one Bunsen burner and one Erlenmeyer flask to do one experiment, Quinn pointedly zoned out during the whole of the activity.

Though Rachel didn't try to get Quinn to participate, she did hope to utilize their time together for something.

"Quinn, I want to talk to you about what happened at Brittany's party." The girl said nothing. But she did turn her back towards the other girl, and Rachel had to huff in annoyance at the childishness of the action. She dropped her head back to her class work, and went about finishing the experiment. As Rachel finished writing out her conclusion, she saw Quinn begin the necessary steps to do the experiment again. By herself, was the hidden message.

The bell rang before Quinn had even begun to execute her hypothesis, and with a dejected sigh she closed her binder and gathered her things.

"You can copy off my notes, Quinn." Once again, Quinn didn't say a word or appear fazed by the brunette, but continued to fill her bag with her belongings. When she finished, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and moved to leave the room. Rachel reached out to gently grasp her elbow, but the blonde shrugged away the touch and continued out of the room.

Quinn got an F for an incomplete assignment, and from her spot behind Quinn two days later, Rachel could see the girl's shoulders slump forward in defeat (Rachel didn't risk sitting next to her again in the event that doing so might result in a continual lowering of the other girl's GPA.) But still she did not say anything. Or more specifically, she didn't say anything to Rachel.

"Santana, I don't care," Rachel overheard the blonde say Friday afternoon as Quinn and Santana sat next to each other in the otherwise empty choir room. Rachel approached the doorway with caution; Quinn's tone was more bored than anything else, but Rachel was hoping to catch the girl in a somewhat amicable headspace so that she could once again try and talk to her.

"I'm just saying that if Jew-Fro and RuPaul ever had a baby, that kid would have the largest schnauz this side of Brooklyn. I mean, seriously, I thought we were almost past this when she decided to get it removed." Rachel's eyes narrowed at the Latina, but she stamped down the temptation to march in there and defend herself.

"God, I really don't care."

"Well, you should," Santana returned, scuffing her nails against a nail file then investigating them for evenness. "She was going to take yours after all. God, wouldn't that have been a sight."

Quinn chuckled mirthlessly, and Rachel could see the evident sadness on the blonde's face.

"Ugh, thank God lesbians can't have babies, because I swear yours and Swarthy Barbie's would be the ugliest."

"Shut up, S," Quinn said, her bored tone returning.

"Especially because old you was hard to look at." Quinn turned and glared at the head cheerleader, but the girl just grinned back. "Aww, Luce."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but there was the ghost of a smile on her lips. Rachel couldn't withhold her own smile as she watched the way Quinn playfully shouldered Santana her smile morphing into an amused smirk.

"Are you going in, Rachel?" Mercedes asked from beside the singer, loud enough that the two occupants of the room turned to look in the direction of the doorway, effectively catching Rachel eavesdropping. Neither girl missed the crimson darkening of the petite diva's face, but one did miss her apologetic eyes because Quinn had turned to face forward, stonily dismissing any activity at the doorway.

Glee practice was tense, to say the least. Not for anyone other than Rachel, as it turned out, but to her it was palpable. Claustrophobically so.

It occurred to Rachel by week five that Quinn wasn't going to talk to her face-to-face.

Rachel managed to trick Finn, utilizing every big word she knew to confuse the boy, into giving her Quinn's number. She hoped that even without using such underhanded tactics he would have given her the number, but it was obvious that he had only done so to get her to stop talking, because it still wasn't clear to him why she'd even want it. Whatever the reason, by four o'clock that Thursday afternoon, Rachel held in her hand a small, torn and crumpled piece of paper with the seven highly-coveted digits. It probably would have been more valuable coming from the girl herself, but Rachel wasn't about to split hairs. She knew that there were many at McKinley who would have done unspeakable things to possess Quinn Fabray's phone number. After all, despite not returning to the Cheerios, the girl's social reputation was still nothing to shake a stick at, Rachel reminded herself.

At any rate, as week Five drew to a close, Rachel had switched her approach to text messages. Speaking face-to-face was only resulting in humiliating silence, and this way maybe Quinn would feel more comfortable talking about everything. Rachel took to her cell phone with an optimistic grin.

December 8, 2011 – 8:38 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

Hi, it's Rachel Berry. I think we really need to talk. I thought this was an appropriate way to do that. I hope you'll agree.

Her grin began to fade as the minutes ticked on, but Rachel remained resolute.

8:52 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

Please, Quinn, there is a lot we have to say to each other I'm sure. I just want to be able to talk about it… I'll start then, and I'm going to preface this with the fact that, while I would not have been classified as sober, I was not drunk.

8:59 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

I almost kissed you, and though I cannot speak for you, it was certainly very confusing for me. Especially because I wasn't intending to do so, but you were there, and everything about that moment just felt like it was building to something. I don't know what would have happened if Finn had not walked in.

9:01 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

Well, obviously we would have kissed, but I mean to say I don't know what would have happened *after* that. LOL. :)

There was still no response, and it wasn't for the first time Rachel almost wished there was some indication that the messages were at least being read; she often had this problem with Finn when she would text him something important and he would claim to not have gotten the text when she spoke with him later. She always felt like that was a lie, but without proof she had nothing to go on. Her fists clenched in phantom anger; that part of their relationship still really bothered her.

9:03 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

I don't believe in lying, to myself or anyone, so I will not do so now and tell you that I didn't want to kiss you. I was very curious to know what it would have felt like.

9:04 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

That sounded a little rude. I wasn't just curious, but I suppose that it was certainly a large part of the reason I wanted to kiss you. I think I was really drawn in by the way you were looking at me, the way that it seemed you that you wanted to kiss me.

9:07 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

I'm sorry; I'm really not editing these before I'm hitting send. That last one was very presumptuous sounding. I cannot say with any great certainty what it was you wanted, but in the moment it felt like you might have wanted to kiss me too. Out of curiosity, I'm sure.

9:21 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

Am I making you uncomfortable? Please tell me if this is the case.

9:33 P.M.

To: Quinn Fabray

I know that I hurt you when I chose to let Finn drive me home. And I know that I hurt you when I almost kissed you. I know these things, but what I don't know is *why* they hurt you. You've ignored me for over a month now, and I can't figure out why. Obviously you're angry with me, and while the animosity of our relationship had been more or less put to bed, I expected its renaissance under the circumstances. Instead you're blatantly ignoring me, and that hurts. I just want to fix this.

9:57 P.M

To: Quinn Fabray

I really hope that you read these messages, and know that I'm sorry for whatever pain I caused you. I tried to do something that wasn't appropriate, and while I can't take that back, I will do whatever I can to rectify our current social climate. I want us to be friends, and it worries me that I ruined our first real opportunity. But I will bid you adieu for the evening. Good night, Quinn.

Though Rachel did not receive a reply that night, or any other night for that matter, a curious thing happened on the Wednesday afternoon of the following week.

The glee club members had gathered in the choir room as they had every other Wednesday and Friday afternoon in recent memory, only this time they were all waiting patiently before the beginning of the meeting, which served as quite a shock when Rachel arrived her usual five-minutes early. They all sat looking at her rather expectantly, which made Rachel mentally recall back her day's itinerary, hoping to jog her memory on what it was she was supposed to be doing. Nothing came to mind, which worried her; they were obviously there for a reason.

"Rachel," Finn began, a somewhat goofy smirk on his face, "the club got together over the last couple days to give you something special for your birthday." Rachel's eyes had widened comically. They had remembered her birthday? That had never once happened in the previous two years of Glee club, not even with Finn, whom she had dated. He hadn't remembered dates of any kind, important or otherwise the entire time she'd known him, so how did he know?

"You remembered?" she wistfully breathed out. He grinned sheepishly at her, but shook his head 'no'. Her expression fell in confusion.

"Quinn reminded me, well, all of us. This was more or less her idea. Though I helped…" Rachel didn't hear a single word past that; she stared up at Quinn on the top riser. The girl was once again facing forward, ignoring Rachel completely. But her jaw was clenched, and her breathing was somewhat ragged. Rachel was… completely floored.

December 11, 2011

To: Quinn Fabray

Do you have xmas plans? School's almost over, and I can't wait. But there's still exams left… I almost always have an exam on my birthday, though… I think our AP Chem exam is on it this year. I just want this semester to be over with. I've never been one to dislike school (education is rather important, after all), but I could use a break. :D

The text message had been one of over a hundred Rachel had sent throughout the past week and a half, and as with all the others had passed without response. Rachel was employing a similar underhanded tactic to the one she had used with Finn, only she was using a lot of words in general to breakdown the girl into doing what she wanted. What she wanted was a response, of any kind. Even if it was just a, "I hate you, Manhands, stop texting me." She needed Quinn to stop ignoring her. But Quinn was obviously not as easily affected as Finn, because she never said a word.

But now Rachel had her proof that she was listening; that, if nothing else, Quinn was reading the messages. A proverbial receipt, in the form of a highly-stylized rendition of 'Happy Birthday' by the members of New Directions. Though not everyone performed (Quinn included), they affirmed that they all had a hand in choreography and, most importantly, cake procurement.

"Quinn, Kurt, and I did some reconnaissance for a vegan bakery in Columbus," Blaine informed Rachel as the cake was wheeled out on a projector stand, beautifully decorated with fondant flowers and musical notes, glowing with eighteen lit candles.

"I drew up the design from some pictures Quinn sent me," Artie declared with a proud grin.

"Yeah, but I picked the colours," Finn quickly interjected. "Though Quinn only gave me like, ten colours to choose from," he continued with an eye roll, "but I picked which ones!"

"Nobody cares, Shrek," Santana said from the pack of the crowd, standing between Brittany and Quinn, causing Rachel to look back at the three girls. Quinn resolutely stared at the cake in the middle of the group, and not at Rachel. "Q, Britts, and I fucking drove to Columbus to get that shit. The least you could have done was pick out some fucking colours. Christ."

Before Finn could respond in his own defense, Rachel spoke out over the group. "You all did a wonderful job." Laying a hand on Finn's forearm, she gave him a wide grin, "all of you."

Mr. Schuester, predictably arriving late, stepped into the choir room in a rush, smiling at the group of teens.

"What'd I miss?"

"It's Rachel's birthday tomorrow, so we just wanted to do something nice for her," Tina replied, resting an affectionate hand on the brunette in question's shoulder. Rachel grinned joyfully back at her.

"Oh, great! Happy birthday, Rach," he returned with a toothy smile, and then moved to the white board where he erased a large 'Happy Birthday, Rachel!' that had been painstakingly drawn in a stylized font by Mike Chang. There were a few groans of annoyance, but Will (albeit sheepishly) removed the message and gave Rachel an apologetic smile.

"I took a picture of it, just in case," Mike spoke into her ear, before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"It looked so good, babe," Rachel heard Tina sweetly murmured behind her.

"Can we eat the cake already? Blow out the candles, Troll Doll, I wants some sugah! Ow!" Santana cradled her bicep where Brittany had slapped it.

"Sorry, R," Brittany shouted affectionately. Rachel only grinned.

The group enjoyed the vegan cake as Will explained that week's assignment, but Rachel had very little appetite. She was too preoccupied trying to catch Quinn's gaze, but once again the girl was steadfastly ignoring her. She picked meagrely at a slice of the cake, all with a stony expression and Rachel couldn't understand it. She had clearly gone through a lot of trouble to organize everything. Rachel's heart palpitated at the very thought of all of Quinn's efforts, and there was a twisting in her stomach when she saw Quinn's face betray her for only an instance as she stared down at the confection on her plate - the slightest hint of a crumbling façade, the first sign of something real.

This really, truly had gone on long enough.

Week Seven began much the same as all the previous weeks: silent and tense. Rachel was determined to end that, and set out doing so on the Friday following Glee practice. She had been bogged down with exams the last week and a half, and finally the last day of classes for the term had arrived. Rachel found it a fitting day to exact her plan – it would be the final day of silence.

Rachel didn't stay back after glee for some private practice, but gathered her personal effects into her book bag and headed to her car. The plan was set in motion immediately; she would walk to her car briskly, and then slow down hoping a certain blonde would walk past her to her own car, coincidentally parked only two stalls over from Rachel's own. As if right on cue, when Rachel slowed her pace under the guise of looking for her keys in her bag, Quinn stepped past her barely noticing the brunette. Rachel eyed her progress as she moved across the parking lot, when she got only a few yards away from her car, Rachel returned to her brisk pace and got in her car quickly, starting the engine immediately.

Always keeping an eye on the blonde's progress, Rachel waited for her to pull out of the parking lot. Finally she did so, and Rachel surreptitiously followed suit. She tailed the other girl closely, but not too close as to give herself up. Rachel was convinced her plan was working seamlessly, until Quinn took a left when she should have taken a right. Then she took another left, and another. After effectively going in a circle twice Rachel got a little nervous. What were the odds that Quinn just had a lot on her mind and had gotten lost… on the way to her own house…?

Quinn pulled over, and before Rachel could do anything like drive away Quinn was out of her car and stomping towards Rachel's. The residential street they were on was quiet, secluded, still Rachel pulled over to the side, behind Quinn's car and awaited her fate. This wasn't how her plan was supposed to go, but from the looks of it, Rachel was going to get her resolution anyway. Quinn looked very disgruntled, and Rachel was pretty sure she had a few choice words to spew at the diva.

"Get out of your car, Rachel."

The tone did not inspire Rachel to get out of her car; in fact, it made Rachel squirm away from the driver side door, as though the physical distance would alleviate Quinn's ire.

"Rachel, get out of your car, now."

She should have been pleased that Quinn was breaking the nearly two months of silence, but Rachel wasn't exactly happy it was done so this way. She should have known all of this wasn't going to go swimmingly, but she had to admit that after the impromptu birthday party she had imagined this encounter was going to be much more… amicable?

She tentatively reached for the door's handle, and slowly pushed the door open. Without sparing a glance at the irate former-cheerleader, Rachel stepped out of the car onto thickly packed snow. Her toes clenched inside her mary-jane's at the frigid coolness of the air around them, and Rachel mentally berated herself for the shoe choice. She had wanted to look nice for this conversation; she had hoped it may sway the results – to be fair, she had imagined this taking place in a warm room and not on the snowy street several blocks over from the expected warm room.

"Why are you following me?"

Rachel was snapped out of her reverie, and her eyes immediately went to Quinn's. For the first time in weeks, Rachel was looking into Quinn's eyes and Quinn was looking into Rachel's. Rachel was all at once taken aback by the intensity of the gaze, could feel her stomach flip over and her chest clench for just a moment. Quinn's eyes were filled with so much raw, unbridled emotion, and Rachel could see no vestiges of the mask Quinn had worn over her features for the better part of two months. Quinn looked miserable, and seeing it bared to her finally made Rachel want to cry.

"I-I-I needed to sp-speak with you, I had to see you," Rachel stammered in reply. Quinn's eyes searched Rachel's, and Rachel did her best to make every feeling, every thought available to the blonde. She felt Quinn deserved that much.

Quinn deflated almost immediately. Her head fell forward, and heaved a huge sigh. "Why?"

"You know why," Rachel whispered, reaching for Quinn's hand which hung loosely at her side. "I've told you everything, Quinn; I need to hear something from you now. I'm done with you ignoring me."

Quinn pulled her hand out of Rachel's grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze sharpened, narrowing at the brunette in front of her. Rachel took a step back, but was quickly met with the side of her car. Quinn didn't fill the space between them, but her expression arrested Rachel to her spot.

"What is it exactly that you're hoping I'm going to say? Because right now I can't for the life of me think of a single thing I want to say to you." Rachel winced at the harshness of Quinn's tone, but she tilted her chin up at the girl in defiance.

"You have nothing to say? Nothing? All I want is some clarity for what's been bothering you over the last two months. You've been ignoring me, and yet, you don't have a single thing to say on the matter."

"I've been ignoring you," Quinn said, bending slightly at the waist to bring her face in closer to Rachel's. "That's sort of the point."

"Quinn," Rachel murmured softly, "please. I just… I want…" Her eyes flickered all across the space and ground between them, searching. She swallowed a quickly forming lump in her throat, and then glanced back up at the ex-Cheerio. Quinn still looked angry, but her eyes seemed to be imploring Rachel to finish her thought. What do you want?

"Can you answer just one question for me? I promise if you do you can walk away from me, and I'll let you eke out a quiet existence, Rachel Berry free, for the remainder of senior year."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but nodded anyway. "Go ahead," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"What would have happened if Finn didn't come find me? " Quinn chuckled humourlessly, shaking her head, and turned to head back to her own car. Rachel quickly reached out again for her hand, gripping the ends of Quinn's fingers tightly. "Please."

"I would have kissed you, Rachel," Quinn emphatically confessed, turning sharply to give an annoyed glare at Rachel. "Obviously." Quinn wrenched her fingers free of Rachel's hold, and turned back towards her own car.

"Hey," Rachel called out, before stomping after the blonde. "That's not fair! You're acting like I put a stop to things – We both jumped away from each other. You looked pretty guilty, if I recall correctly."

"Yeah," Quinn scoffed, "because your fucking boyfriend was about to walk in on us."

"You know very well we broke up that night."

"Regardless, to answer your question once again, we would have kissed. But we didn't, which you should be happy about –"

"Happy?" It was Rachel's turn to scoff, and she narrowed her eyes in perplexity at the girl. Then she straightened, her expression hardening, and turned around to move to her car. "You're an asshole, Quinn Fabray."

"Wha—Rachel, how am I am asshole?" Quinn trailed back after her, a slightly amused smile playing at her lips. Rachel struggled to get her car door open, and when she finally loosed the handle enough to get the door ajar, Quinn was behind her pressing it closed again. Rachel swung back around, glaring angrily at the offending blonde.

"You're an asshole because I told you everything I felt about that night, and you just threw it back in my face. Over the last three weeks I've done nothing but prostrate myself for you, short of throwing myself at your feet trying to get you to talk to me again. You act like I am nothing to you, but I could see how hard you we're trying to ignore me." Quinn looked appropriately chastised, bowing her head in shame as Rachel continued.

"My birthday party? God, Quinn, if I was supposed to be happy that I didn't kiss you, then why the Hell would you do something that only made me want to do so even more?" Quinn gasped in a shaky breath, and brought her eyes back to Rachel's. She pushed herself off of Rachel's car, and Rachel could see her steeling herself against whatever she was feeling, but Rachel could still see the desperation, the want in Quinn's eyes. "Why are you trying so hard to push me away when it's so obvious that you want me?"

Quinn blanched at Rachel's words, her throat working over lump after lump trying to drag oxygen into her lungs. Rachel reached up with both hands to steady Quinn, gently clutching the girl's cheeks and trying to get Quinn's eyes to focus on her. After a moment they finally focused, and Rachel could still see the panic present in Quinn's gaze.

"If I'm wrong, tell me so. Say something, anything. Just do not give me any more silence."

Her first attempt was a bit of a croak, which made the brunette snicker affectionately, and when her second attempt seemed to be more of the same, Quinn just gave up altogether. Stepping forward, Quinn propelled Rachel who was still gently holding Quinn's face against the side of her car. Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, but quickly slipped closed as Quinn's lips moved across hers. Rachel gasped for breath, before slipping her fingers into the tawny hairs on the nape of Quinn's neck eliciting a strangled moan from the blonde's throat. At the first touch of Quinn's tongue against her own, Rachel melted into the embrace fully. Even though her lungs cried out for oxygen, Rachel refused to shatter the moment, refused to pull away. This may very well be the only chance she gets, and Rachel wasn't about to throw it away.

She did pull back when Quinn did, though she was very tempted to pull the blonde back to her. Quinn took in several heaving breaths, pulling almost completely away from Rachel as she did so. Quinn looked forlornly back at the brunette.

"Is that… You said in your texts that you were curious. Was that good enough?"

"I—Quinn—"

"I needyou to leave me alone, Rachel."

"But you—"

"Please, Rachel." Quinn's resolve crumbled for a moment, and she stared back at Rachel with so much sadness. "Curiosity isn't enough for me, do you get that? It is obvious that I want you, which means it's also obvious that you could really hurt me."

Quinn seemed to wait for her response, but none came. Rachel was completely dumbfounded. This was not how this was supposed to go, but her voice just couldn't protest on her behalf. She was silenced; which, if she thought about it, was rather ironic.

"I won't ignore you anymore, and I'm sorry for how much pain I've caused you. I never wanted to hurt you. I really want to be your friend someday; I don't think that's such a good idea right now."

Rachel looked like someone had kicked her in the stomach. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the image of Quinn walking away from her, and she wanted so desperately to say something, but she was still recovering from the whiplash of the last five minutes. Everything had happened so quickly, and Rachel was still reeling from the effects of their kiss. She had been curious, Quinn was right, but that had been weeks ago. Now curiosity was but a distant spot in the horizon behind her; now she knew. She knew what she was supposed to know weeks ago.

"Quinn!" Rachel called after the girl, as she opened her driver side door. "I'm not curious anymore."

Quinn gave her a rueful, watery smile. "I know, but I still need time. It's not a good idea right now."

Quinn moved to get in her car, but Rachel wasn't finished yet. "Not 'right now' means soon, right?" Quinn chuckled, the first truly amused chuckle Rachel had heard in a long time from the blonde, and it made her heart swell.

"Right."

"Okay," Rachel acquiesced, "I can work with that."

December 23, 2011

From: Quinn Fabray

Hope you're having a good night; oh, and merry xmas. Q.

End Part 2

A/N Addendum: The text messages were hard to do. I wanted to limit them to 140 characters, but when I did so it looked like hell and was hard to read. Hopefully, while a bit unrealistic for some, this reads and works better. Also, I want to explain that Rachel is still a little all over the place, but she's finding equilibrium. Quinn is too. She wasn't simply ignoring Rachel out of anger, but also out of self-preservation. I hope this came across as intended. Anyway, by the next installment, they will have figured out what equilibrium is for them.